


Atlantis

by smallestbrown



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-07-29 09:10:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7678576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallestbrown/pseuds/smallestbrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy and Clarke would sit in the dropship bay, and she would draw lines and coasts and valleys and lakes on the walls, his eyes always on the way her fingers could trace out the world beyond their walls, mapping out their reality.</p><p>( Or, the 100 find a ravine, and they go exploring.)<br/>(Canon divergence from S1, post Day-Trip.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Cliffside

From the start, Bellamy had tasked a team with charting of the grounds around the dropship base. Someone from his militia – usually Connor or Monroe – always accompanied a group of about three or four of the younger teens that were eager to make themselves useful.

They would come back most evenings, tired, exhausted, with diagrams scribbled on leaves or the rare piece of paper. A routine. Notes were handed off to Bellamy; the injured and dehydrated siphoned off to Clarke. Dusty scrapes and bruises were patched up, throats gulping down grateful sips of water. After everyone was asleep and the night guard shifts had begun, Bellamy would compile it all. Measurements, descriptions, names. He and Clarke would sit in the dropship bay, and she would draw lines and coasts and valleys and lakes on the walls, his eyes always on the way her fingers could trace out the world beyond their walls, as if drawing them into existence, coaxing out reality.

Slowly, their maps grew in size, and Clarke expanded on to ceilings and doors. _Athens, Troy, Themiscrya_ – toponyms courtesy of Bellamy, crowded the space around the daunting shape of Mount Weather, the only name he hadn’t coined. _Tartarus_ was their graveyard; _Olympus_ , their home. The runners became braver as the days since the first attack passed and the claim _“We are Grounders”_ stayed fresh in their minds. Fervor and energy rang in their footsteps when they left the walls on early mornings. They’d been exploring relentlessly, getting further and further in circles around their makeshift wall, until they finally found the river.

It was buried inside an enormous crevice, forged through years of acid rain and erosion. In the midday sun, the water was all kinds of cyan and turquoise, flashing in white lights and purple shadows. Great walls of white and grey rock flanked it on either side, and as Clarke kneeled and stared over the edge, Bellamy hovering nearby, she thought she could even see trees.

“It’s a long way down,” Bellamy remarked, eyeing her. His hands were flexing at his sides restlessly, uncomfortable with her precarious position.

“It’s like it’s got its own ecosystem,” said Clarke, slightly breathless.

Vines and moss and all sorts of flowers grew out of the cracks in the sides of the ravine, fed by the rushing water below. From so far up – Clarke guessed 50 or so feet, but Finn or Raven would probably give a better estimate – the sound of the river was audible, but not intense. It echoed briefly like a quiet brook, but if the sound was being carried up so high, she was sure it would be much more overpowering down below.

Clarke turned and exchanged a glance with Bellamy. Despite their shared skepticism, it was hard to tell who was more eager and who more hesitant. She read the way his lips thinned into a line in thought, he saw in her eyes both caution and possibility.

“Not today, obviously,” Clarke said, answering a silent conversation. “But this week.” It wasn’t a question, just a matter of logistics.

“Give it five days,” he added.

“Gather enough extra rations, get a good team.”

“Build the right equipment. Tied up seatbelts – “

“Aren’t going to cut it,” Clarke interrupted. Bellamy raised his chin in agreement, and he added: “I’m going.”

She frowned. “Someone needs to watch things up at camp.”

“And you won’t be able to?”

“I’ll be too busy down there,” she said, gesturing to the ravine. She was teasing him, slightly, but he stiffened and glanced at the group of delinquents who’d led them to the discovery. Monroe cocked her head at them; Miller crossed his arms. Clarke saw his jaw clench and dropped her hands to her knees.

“We’ll talk about it later at camp,” she said, carefully.

“Yeah.”

Bellamy didn’t miss the way she took one last glance down before getting up. She took her pack from him and nodded.

The walk back to camp was quiet, mostly. The team paced the way through the forest, chattering about 'what ifs' and 'what’s down theres' and 'maybe it’ll finally get Connor to take a bath', while Bellamy and Clarke kept their heads down. She flinched every time he turned back the way they’d came, as if hoping to see their new discovery once more.

He found her later that night in the dropship, her hands filled with charcoal, as she touched the world into being on the steel walls. The ravine was barely a wisp, but Bellamy knew it was because she was waiting to find out more about it. Her maps were conclusive, just like she was. Precise, defined. Concrete. He admired how sturdy was she was, how strong she made everyone feel. Made him feel.

“You named it,” he noted breathlessly. It was barely a question, more a figment of surprise.

“Like it?” she asked, back still to him. He’d entered soundlessly and had taken his usual seat on the ground, his back against the cool metal of the counters, and watched her work. His eyes strayed to the previously blank wall space where the crevice grew in size on the walls, a few small letters teetering near its winding path.

_Atlantis._

“Love it,” Bellamy said, and he saw her duck her head slightly the way she always did when she smiled, as if it should be kept a secret. “I see my taste has rubbed off on you.”

“Only in the necessity of maintaining theme.” She turned to him, seemingly satisfied with her work, and put her drawing tools down on the table. “Jasper did suggest ‘Mega Water World’, though,” Clarke laughed as Bellamy cringed. 

“Glad you vetoed that one.”

“Oh, but I was _this_ close.” She came to sit next to him on the ground.

There was a pause, and finally Bellamy sighed. “Clarke –”

“Bellamy, I know. I can’t go.”

He blinked and stared at her in surprise. Her knees were brought up to her chest and her gaze dropped to the concrete floor beneath them.

“To be honest, that’s not the answer I was expecting.”

Clarke sighed and glanced at him briefly, resignation on her breath. She looked away to the map-covered wall, and he swallowed. Something in his chest swam uncomfortably.

“If someone gets hurt, or someone falls off a wall… if there’s a misfire or a burn or a freaking papercut, they need me.” 

“They need you to lead, Clarke,” Bellamy said, “not just nurse them back to health.”

“No, they need _you_ to lead, Bell. They need –” she interrupted herself. “I’m just –”

She paused, eyes still glued ahead, and her shoulders sunk again. When she started, there was something distant in her voice. “For so long, I was cooped up in the Sky Box. There weren’t any options, any choices: you stand, you sit, you sleep. You _know_. And frankly, you sometimes hope that you’re not around for the day that everyone starts choking on their own lungs.”

For a moment, Bellamy saw her as she’d been on the Ark: alone. Desperate and trapped. Her blond hair so much cleaner than it was now, no scars on her arms or blood on her skin or her bones. He saw her scratching on the walls with charcoal, the same way she did now, desperation in her nails, in her every mark and breath. He saw her whispering to herself in the night, words that no one else would hear. Danger and strength confined to narrow spaces. Proper. Precise. Pained.

“And then we got to the ground,” Clarke continued, her eyes closed for a moment, “and just for a second, I got to think that maybe I’d – that we’d be free. That there wouldn’t be this constant weight, looming overhead. That what we’d do wouldn’t be futile.”

“It isn’t futile, Clarke –”

“No, that’s not what I meant, I –” she fumbled. “It's what.. We’ve never had the choice. Not ever. Not when we were on the Ark, not when they sent us to the ground, not even when we landed. Not now.”

He realized that she knew that he would understand, knew that she wasn’t just speaking on her own behalf anymore. Years of putting his own desires aside for Octavia, enrolling in the guard, risking his and the Chancellor’s lives just to protect his sister. And now, on the ground, rallying the hundred. Pushing them to build, to be strong, to defend themselves.

It hadn’t been a choice; it been a binary of _me_ or _them_ , and they had always, always refused to chose themselves.

He tore his eyes away from her to look at the map once more.

 _Atlantis_. A new world, untouched and unblemished: an opportunity to start again.

And she no longer had the strength to fight for it.

“You have always done what’s best for us,” Bellamy said. His voice was low and quiet in the night, and Clarke turned to look at him for what felt like the first time since they’d left the river. Cautiously, he put his hand on top of hers, on her knees. “I’ve seen you do it every day.”

She lowered her eyes, and he rubbed his thumb against the side of her hand, urging her to meet his gaze.

“And I think – I think it’s time you did something for yourself.”

She swallowed, the shadow of a smile, and they both looked to the wisps and trails of charcoal on the wall. There was something unwritten there, suddenly: something that felt like hope.

In the dark of the night, they reached a decision.


	2. The cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They start their exploration into the ravine. Something goes unbearably wrong.

“Miller, Raven, Finn – we’re leaving the three of you in charge.”

The delinquents were gathered around the fire pit, anxious. Bellamy and Clarke hadn’t left the camp together since the Jobi nut incident, and even that had only been a day trip. In the past week, they’d taken small exploration groups out to the ravine. Finn and Raven had corroborated an estimate of 40 feet to reach the bottom – less than Clarke had thought, but still significant – and at least a dozen feet until the next safe ledge. Mbege and a few others had twined some rope, rappelling off the sides of the dropship in test runs. Now, along with Harper, Jasper and Monroe, they’d packed enough food to last the five of them five days. 

“We should be back in four, though,” Clarke reassured Monty at the gate. “The extra rations are just a safety measure. In case something goes wrong.”

“Which it won’t,” said Bellamy. He shouldered his pack and picked up his gun, knocking it against the axe at his belt. Jasper and Monroe were decked out similarly, grim behaviour betrayed by eager expressions. Harper hoisted a spear, looking to Clarke. She didn’t carry any weapons.

“It won’t,” she agreed, glancing one final look around camp. “We’re lucky. We’re at peace, and we’re well equipped. We can afford to do this, now. To go explore, and find out more about the Ground.”

“That doesn’t mean the rest of you can slack off,” added Bellamy, taking her cue. She didn’t know when it had happened, but suddenly they were two halves of a team, reading signals, stepping up and filling in blanks on walls with words the other would like. It felt natural, to stand by his side, and listen to him lecture the hundred. Clarke still wasn’t sure if letting the both of them leave camp was a smart decision, but it was the one they’d made together. 

He looked at her as they crossed the gate, a hand on her arm briefly as he passed her to lead the way for the others. She met his glance with a small smirk.

“Off to Atlantis,” she said. His back was turned, but she could almost hear his grin in the echoes of the forest.

Energized and excited, they hiked quickly and arrived at the crevice by noon, setting up for a lunch a good distance from the edge. No one spoke much, each too enamored by the gravity of their task to risk small talk. Clarke and Bellamy stayed close together as they ate, eyes glued to the gaping hole in the ground, taking each other’s anxiousness and anticipation in by small glances and uneasy swallows.

They spent a minute, the five of them, standing side by side at the edge of the precipice. Bellamy still wavered by Clarke’s side warily, but this time she noticed how his eyes lingered more easily on the water below. 

Harper was the one to break the silence. “Who’s first?”

Jasper found a portion of the ledge with more vines to use as handholds and a strong ledge jutting out about ten feet below it. Bellamy reached into Clarke’s pack and pulled out the rope. He started to loop it around his waist until he noticed her hesitating.

“After you, Clarke,” he said, and the grin on his face disarmed all her anxiety like he was yanking out a weed or pulling a trigger.

“Please,” she answered, stepping forward to secure the rope around him. “Be my guest.” 

He watched her as she checked the knots once more, achingly close, inches away from him. Something tightened in his throat as he watched her, and he put out his hand to hold her arm. Clarke looked up, and his touch moved to her neck, his thumb on her cheek. She paused, lips slightly apart, and swallowed. “Bell –”

“We’re ready!” called Monroe. Bellamy’s hand dropped instantly, covering his surprise with a smirk. Clarke didn’t quite understand why she felt so breathless, or why he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes as intensely as he just had.

Instead, he turned towards Monroe. “Time to go for a swim,” he said.

The four of them braced themselves against a rock, slowly lowering Bellamy down to the next ledge. The plan was to lower two of them down to the bottom one at a time, taking advantage of the many ledges along the cliff’s sides to give the rope-pullers a break. Then, securing the rope to a tree at the top of the ravine, and the last three would rappel down with the help of those below to guide them.

Bellamy landed without a problem; Clarke wasn’t far behind. 

She was so intently focused on the rock façade that she barely noticed the rush of water growing louder. The dull rumble was slowly becoming an almost deafening roar; climbing down from the last ledge, Bellamy’s voice below her was almost lost in the thunder on the river.

“– Clarke!” she heard him yell.

“What?” Her head jerked around, trying to see him below her. Suddenly, the rock holding one of her feet up gave way, and she was holding on to the ledge by only her hands. 

“Clarke!” This time, Bellamy’s voice cut through the waves with urgency. She tried to pull herself up, scrambling to find a foothold, nails digging into rock painfully.

For an instant, she thought she’d found one, sticking one boot sideways into a crack in the cliff. Then the rope lurched, going completely slack, and Clarke lost her grip, one foot still stuck inside the rock.

She fell backwards, crying out as her knee snapped and her foot finally broke free from the wall. She noticed, helpless, that the rope was falling with her, and then she felt arms grasp at her shoulders and waist, right before she hit the ground.

 

“Are you okay?” Bellamy’s voice was loud in her ear, the sounds of the river almost as deafening. 

Clarke gritted her teeth at the stab of pain in her leg, trying to nod in response. He moved out from underneath her, where she’d landed with a harsh thud. She hadn’t been far from the ground – maybe ten feet – but Bellamy hadn’t steadied himself properly when he’d caught her; they were both lying on the rock ground of the riverbed, the spray of water slowly seeping through their clothes and skin. He knelt next to her, worry in every line of his face.

“My knee,” she finally replied, practically yelling. His eyes jumped to her legs, bloodless but bent uncomfortably. “I can’t – Help me get up.”

He looped his arm around her shoulders, squatting, and pushed up, taking her weight on him as much as he could. Clarke saw him wince a bit as he rose, wondered how hard she’d hit him.

Bellamy glanced around worriedly, and noticed where part of the walls slid inwards, hollowing out the ravine away from the river. “Over there!” he shouted, grabbing their packs from the ground and hobbling over to the cave.

They left behind the rope that had fallen. 

 

Bellamy glanced up the cliff’s side, and through the mist and spray of the water he saw the shadows of Harper, Monroe and Jasper. Someone was flailing their arms. He swallowed and pulled Clarke closer to him, limping into the cave.

The river’s noise was dulled in the wall’s indent where they took shelter, catching their breath for a moment. Clarke sat propped up against the wall, gingerly touching her injured leg. Bellamy crouched beside her.

“Well,” said Clarke, after a moment. “That went great.” Bellamy snorted. 

“You can say that again.” 

She smirked, and went back to focus on her injury. Her forehead creased in pain as she tried to bend her knee. “Shit.” She lowered her leg to the ground slowly and let her head fall against the wall. 

“Shit,” she repeated.

“Sprained?” asked Bellamy.

“I think so. Or whatever it’s called when you twist your entire knee the wrong way.” 

He grimaced. “Bad luck?”

“Yeah,” she sniffed. “As if we hadn’t already had enough of that.”

She started to rub patterns on the thigh of her uninjured leg, like she was retracing the map from the dropship walls. _Themiscrya, Tartarus. Atlantis._ If it weren’t for the searing pain in her leg at every incremental movement, Clarke might have mistaken Bellamy’s comforting presence next to her for just another night when they mapped out the world. What had felt like a ray of hope, of opportunity – a choice made with their heads held high, had revealed to them what they really were: the pitiful, broken gods of a forsaken domain. 

Clarke could feel worry radiating off of Bellamy, and it made the pain in her leg throb. His hair full of dew, the concern stitched onto his face brought something to her attention.

“What did you say?” she asked. He looked up at her, the word 'nothing' only a dismissive phrase away, but Clarke corrected herself. “On the cliff. You called something out, before I fell.”

Bellamy’s eyes on hers sparked something teasing before he moved to sit next to her, achingly careful even as he circled her uninjured side. Their shoulders brushed again, an anchor of comfort and habit inside the cold, rocky cave.

“Knowing me? Something stupid.” Clarke snorted, a sudden tension easing from her spine. Her head came to lean against his shoulder in the same beat that Bellamy took her hand in his. His thumb rubbed circles on the back of hand through a rip in his glove, the action's rarity bringing reminding her of the night they'd first found the ravine. The sound of the rushing water was dulled inside the space, a constant, white noise sprinkled into their quiet. 

They stayed like that, breathing in silence and presence. He had her hand in both of his on his lap, staring down at it. Clarke lifted her head to look at him; he looked young like this, always did when he left his guard down. Holding her hand gently, he took in a breath that filled his frame, as if he had reached a decision.

“Raven and Miller will know what to do. They’ll be back for us tomorrow.” His voice felt quiet, but it might have been the sound of water dulling his volume. Still, something in his tone struck Clarke. She had the feeling that his statement hadn’t been made just to reassure her. That he’d needed to hear it too. 

She squeezed his hand, prompting another breath on his part.

“For now, the two of us should get some rest.”

Clarke nodded, her head coming back to lay on his shoulder like it belonged there. Their slow breaths grew synchronous, a slow rhythm in tune with the pounding of water, with the soft press of his fingers against her skin. 

Forty feet below ground, Bellamy and Clarke drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am updating this!! Almost a half-year later!! Uni's been baller, but time-consuming. But if you like this piece and want to read more of it, please leave a comment/kudos and let me know! Your feedback means the world!


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